Nine crimes
by mymistrust
Summary: "You don't remember me."


**"NINE CRIMES"**

TITLE: Nine Crimes  
AUTHOR: Mistrust  
FEEDBACK: lorenafosla –at– gmail –dot– com  
RATING: R for disturbing images and one bad word (blink and you'll miss it!)  
SPOILERS: None  
CATEGORY: V, A, AU, M/S UST  
TIMELINE: Season 2?  
SYNOPSIS: "You don't remember me."  
NOTES: It's an alternate universe. I know, I know, not your favourite, but neither is mine. Don't panic, though: Mulder and Scully are not married, they're still with the FBI, and Scully is... Well, I don't want to give anything away, so read it!  
WARNING: I am not a native English speaker, so be kind with me, ok?

DISCLAIMERS: Mulder and Scully were created by Chris Carter and owned by TenThirteen Productions and Twentieth Century Fox. No copyright infringement is intended and no profits are made out of this story, it's just for fun.  
The song belongs to Damien Rice, and I highly recommend you to listen to it before reading, to get in the mood of the story.

Copyright © June 2008 Mistrust.

_"Is a small crime__  
__And I got no excuse._

_Is that alright?__  
__Give my gun away when it's loaded__  
__Is that alright, yeah__  
__If you don't shoot it__  
__how am I supposed to hold it?__  
__Is that alright, yeah__  
__Give my gun away when it's loaded__  
__Is that alright, is that alright with you?"_

'9 CRIMES' – DAMIEN RICE

**NINE CRIMES**

I've lost everything I had, and you say it's alright. I've lost my memories, my loves, my virtues and my vices. I can't tell you who I am anymore - or who I used to be. It's the wrong moment to ask me what is going on with me - the only thing I can say is "if I only knew". You look at me like you didn't know me at all. Well, maybe you don't, I can't tell who you are exactly, or what you meant for me. Is that a crime?

The only crime is to make me forget who I am. People are made of memories - if you take this away, there's not much left.

The emptiness I feel is replaced by sorrow, and you still look at me like I am crazy. Take this look from your face - I hate it. Will you give me my gun and let me finish their job? Without my memories, I'm already dead. There's only flesh and bone here, nothing else, I say, and you don't believe me. You tell me you only want to help me. But how can you help me if you don't want to believe me?

"Please, give me my gun" I didn't remember that my voice would sound so hoarse from crying.

"No" you say, firmly, and I hate that your voice has such an effect on me.

"Please! Give it to me" I say, not looking at you in the eye. I can't do it. A voice deep inside me says that if I do, I will surrender myself to you, and I have no right to do so. I can't remember the first thing about you. What right do I have to feel like I do when you're around?

"No! Look at me" I'm crying again. And I hate that you're the reason why and I can't remember anything about you. About us.

I don't answer, and grabbing my chin you force me to look into your eyes. And then you see what I didn't want you to see.

I don't remember you.

"You don't remember me" it's not a question. And the hurt in your eyes makes my heart ache. "You don't remember me". Please, don't say it again.

I push you away. "I... I remember the day we met". No, I wasn't supposed to say that.

"Do you?" Is that hope in your eyes?

"That day I thought I had to know you before I could forget you". I'll tell you the truth, just for a change. They've already told you so many lies that being honest with you is the only thing I can do for you right now. The little I remember… the little I know.

Funny how I can't remember this man, standing by me, but I can remember the only thing I was supposed to not even know.

"What do you mean?" Maybe you don't want to know the truth. And even if you do, maybe you won't want to believe it.

But I can't help myself, and I continue to talk to you. "I knew I would forget you". My small confession.

"Why? How?"

I look into your eyes. I could almost smile at your confusion. You just have no idea what's happened around you. "They wouldn't let me... care for you..." I meant 'love you'.

Your eyes darkened, but now I've got no excuse for lying to you anymore. Soon, everything will be gone, just like what's left of me in this world.

"Scully..." I almost shiver when you say my name. My name? Is that my true name? How will I ever know now? "It's alright... You don't know what you're talking. You're confused..." You take a step closer, and I take a step back.

"No. Mulder. Listen to me" I try hard not to stammer. "Everything was a lie. I was a lie. I... I'm sorry."

Pathetic. I am so fucking pathetic.

You shake your head. You think I'm confused, Mulder? You should look at yourself in the mirror.

"Shhh. It's alrigh..." Now you put your hands on my shoulders, and I almost sob. I can't remember this. I can't remember your touch.

"I work for the men you hate so much, Mulder" my face is damp with tears and you look at me with such love... But I don't care. It'll be over soon. "I work for the men who took your sister from you!" I shout at you. I want to hurt you. I want you to hate me. I want me to hate you. "Is that alright?" I ask, sarcastically.

You don't answer me. You just look at me. "That's what I thought. Now give me my gun."

You don't say anything. Please, stop looking at me, Mulder. "Mulder! My gun!" Now I'm yelling.

"Why do you remember all of this and can't remember who I am and all that we've been through, Scully? Why?" Your eyes have the saddest shade of green. You're begging. Fox Mulder is begging. To me, the greatest of all lies.

Please, stop it. I can't take this anymore. But I promised to myself that I would be honest with you and I intend to do so.

"Because... They took this away from me, Mulder. These specifics memories. And the only reason why I'm crying..." I sob. I've lost the little I had of self-control.

"What? What is it, Scully?" You don't break eye contact, and I force myself to look at you with the same intensity that you look at me.

My god, your pain…

"The only reason why I'm crying, Mulder" I repeat, taking a deep breath. Truth, I tell myself. Tell him the truth "is that now I realised that they can erase my brain, but not my heart."

I close my eyes. I can't look at you anymore. God, if only I could remember. Did we have sex? Did we ever kiss? Did I ever tell you what I am feeling right now?

"Scully..." Are you crying, Mulder? I can't tell, everything is a blur for me now. I just want my gun.

"And it hurts so much to not remember why you make me feel this way, Mulder... It hurts so much..." I'm sobbing compulsively now. I can't help it. I'm giving myself to you, my soul and my heart – did I ever give myself this way to you before? I couldn't tell.

You want to hold me. You want to pull me closer and hug me until we both stop crying. But I won't let you do so. I don't deserve your comfort. I forgot you.

"I lied to you, Mulder, all this time" what did I tell him? What did I _really_ tell him that was true? "Don't you see? You trusted the wrong person."

"So why did they have to erase your memory?" You won't give up on me, and if you weren't holding my shoulders, I would probably end up on the floor now. I'm not easy on my knees anymore.

"Because..." I know why, but do _you_ want to know?

"Why, Scully?" you insist, looking at me straight in the eyes again. I look away.

"Because at some point... I probably lied to them too. For you." Because I probably fell in love with you.

"What happens now?" you're stepping close again, but I don't make any effort to push you away this time. I'm so tired...

"Now you give me my gun."

"Scully."

"Please."

"Don't do this."

"Don't make me do this."

You're silent for a moment, and for these brief seconds, I believe you're finally going to give me my gun. But then your hands hold both of my arms and you shake me, like I am sleeping and you want to wake me up.

You're losing it; I can see it in your eyes. You're getting desperate.

"Scully! Just listen to yourself!" you yell, still shaking me. I don't move, though. "You're not being yourself!... I... I trusted the right person, Scully. I've never had any doubts about this. And your lack of memory is the strongest proof of that." You're almost sobbing, and now you just hold me very close. "Don't you see? They've brainwashed you, that's the only logical explanation! They just didn't erase your memories; they put other ones in your mind, Scully! You couldn't have been working with them!... You couldn't..." You give up to your tears, and I want to wipe them away. I stand still, though.

How I would like to believe you.

"Mulder..." When did my voice become that low? "That's probably the only piece of truth you will ever have; why are you denying it?"

You're still crying like a baby. Please, stop crying. I hate to see this.

"It can't be, Scully..." you sob, finally holding back the tears. "I can't accept that. I... I don't want to believe that".

Now it's my turn to give up to my own tears, once more. Why does it hurt so much? Why do I feel like I've betrayed you twice? Why do I love you? Why they weren't able to erase my love for you as well?

I don't want to argue anymore. My gun seemed to be the safest and easiest way out of this, but now that you're hugging me so desperately, like you're holding for dear life, I realise that I couldn't leave you like this.

"Mulder..." my voice is nothing but a whisper.

"Shhh, Scully" you say, holding me tighter, if that's possible. "Don't talk. I don't wanna talk about this anymore. It's alright now. It's alright with you... We don't need to talk about this..." Oh, god. It's almost a crime to ask me not to talk about it.

I bury my face in your chest, crying compulsively now, my defenses are all gone. It's not alright with me, Mulder. It'll never be.

It's odd when someone ask you not to talk about something. Someone who, by the way, is the only person who you would like to talk about that something. The person that you trust enough to talk about it. And then, you restrain yourself. Because if you can't talk with them, who would you talk to?

But it hurts to keep all of this inside me. It brings up distorted thoughts, which I would like not to think of. Which I would like to give away. I look for comfort in anything. I look for things I can occupy myself with, because this way it doesn't come to me. The paranoia. The guilt. But never the memories. They're all gone, and you just don't want to believe me. I'm starting this relationship over again, but with the assurance that it will never be what once was.

Maybe the paranoia has never left me after all. It's still here, assailing me when I least expect. The problems that I create, that I can't remember, still hurt me. Sometimes, it's necessary to give some space to this thoughts and feelings, although it seems to be forbidden. So I never speak aloud what I think, because I know it's going to hurt you. I can't talk about that with you anymore - I'm exhausted and it destroys me ever so slowly. And you just don't want to accept the truth about me. It destroys both of us. So, I pretend I don't feel it. I pretend I don't know it and that I'm not afraid.

Until it's alright, although I know it will never be. Not for us. Not alright anymore.

**FINIS**

So? Liked it? Hated it? You know what to do!

I wrote this little piece of angst in a slight different style, as you could see, so let me know if you liked it or not.

And as you may have noticed if you listened the music from which I borrowed the title, the lyrics doesn't really fit here, but it's a beautiful song anyway and I listened to it while writing the fanfic. It just came to me when I first listened to this song, so… Here we are.

Thanks for reading!

Mistrust.


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